


Lost & Found

by Mistressaq



Series: Kamjie [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Hopeful Ending, Mild Angst at the beginning, Minor Original Character(s), Referenced child abandonement, She was supposed to be a queen but no one fits the character i gave her so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistressaq/pseuds/Mistressaq
Summary: When a cat on the sidewalk wants to lead you into an alley at six in the morning, you have a choice. Kameron’s choice would impact the futures of several strangers, and change her own goals forever.
Relationships: Kameron Michaels/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Series: Kamjie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816390
Kudos: 12





	Lost & Found

Walking out of the independent coffee shop, Kameron had yet to stick her earbuds back in. Maybe that’s why she heard the gravelly wailing from the sidewalk. Her eyes followed the sound, finding a grey tabby cat weaving between the legs of those who passed by. He kept trying to herd the people, yowling at them, only to be shooed away or ignored entirely. 

Kameron sank down onto her haunches, reshuffling the items in her hands to free up some space. She made eye contact with the tabby, and from this angle saw that the fur on his neck was ruffled in a way that suggested a collar was hidden somewhere underneath. He made his way over, lowering the volume of his calls. Kameron nodded as if she understood what he was saying, because, why not? At least she might be able to find a phone number on his collar and return the loud boy to where he belongs.

But he wouldn’t stand still, and refused to be petted. He just kept meowing at Kameron, walking in circles, usually favoring to the right. Now Kameron wondered if the little guy had neurological problems, or problems with his shoulder. That was, until he trotted to the edge of the block, turned around, and yelled at her. Kameron sat back on her haunches. Oh God, this is where the animal leads the stranger to a dead body. Something inside her warned her to give up now and continue on her route to work. But…

She followed. And that decision would impact the futures of a handful of people, and change Kameron’s goals forever. 

The grey tabby led Kameron to the opening of a back alley. When he dove off into the sketchy side street, Kameron fumbled around in her purse until her fingers gripped her concealed pepper spray. With dread in her belly and the cat’s continued yowling in her ears, she pressed on. 

It was roughly six in the morning, and the sun cast only a suggestion of light over the land, even less illumination afforded to the gravel and broken glass coated corner of the city. Kameron gave a wide berth to a vagrant sleeping on a discarded couch, and her fingers shook around her take-out coffee cup as with every step she regretted following this stupid housecat more and more.

And then he stopped next to an abandoned baby carrier and looked at Kameron, his green eyes reflecting all of the not-light in the alley. He meowed at her, and then inched his face further into the carrier. Kameron could tell from the dimness and the shadows that it was the kind of thing that converted from a car seat into a carrier, and might even hook into a stroller. Dread nipped at Kameron’s fingertips. Whatever was inside this carrier, she suspected she did not want to see. 

Nevertheless, she again squatted down in her work pants, placing her coffee cup on some cardboard, and peered around the edge of the carrier. Her heart stuttered at a tiny reflection, a small amount of light bouncing off a wet little nose. She watched with bated breath, squinting to try and see those nostrils move. And she may have imagined it at this point, but there was enough suggestion of movement that she whipped out her cell phone and stuck it under the infant’s nose. And, blessed be, the glass fogged up. 

Kameron pressed a palm to her chest and felt tears pricking at her eyes. She heard a small mew and suddenly remembered the cat was even there. The tabby had climbed into the carrier and laid upon the blankets. Now that she had her phone out, she turned on her flashlight to get a better look. The baby was dressed in blue and green, what looked like pajamas. He had a blanket over him, patterned with polka-dots and cat hair. Kameron looked at the tabby and understood: this cat must have heard crying, God knows how long ago, and left his home to keep the baby warm. 

God knows how long ago. Kameron dialed 9-1-1. 

She put the phone on speaker as she worked on getting her coat open -- the poor thing must be freezing, even _with_ a furry cuddle buddy. She reached around the tabby to grab the baby under his head and knees and pulled him into the warmth under her coat. While she frantically explained to the operator lady, Kameron undid her top few buttons, and pressed him close, just so his little face could get some skin-to-skin contact. She rubbed his little shoulders, his tiny ears, trying to get him warm, to maybe wake up. Her chest ached. _If he would just cry,_ she pleaded internally. _If he cries, he’s okay. If he starts crying, he’ll be okay._

Kameron started bouncing on her heels. “Cry,” she whispered into his feathery hair. “Just cry for me, will ya? I’ve never _wanted_ to hear a baby cry before,” she joked to herself. The line was still active, she was supposed to stay on until she saw the EMTs. Hot tears had started to bubble over. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She found herself face to face with the tabby again. 

“If your owner bails,” she told him. “You’re all mine, buddy. Vanessa can deal with it.”

Thinking on it, Kameron pulled out her breakfast sandwich. Tabby Man seemed very interested, watching intently as she unwrapped it. His neck craned as his face got closer and closer to Kameron’s food. She pulled the sausage out of the sandwich and handed it to him, which he took with gratitude. As he ate, he allowed Kameron to drag her thumb down the back of his head and neck. By the time he’d scarfed the whole thing down, the alley was flooded with red flashing lights. Kameron signaled with her phone flashlight and two dudes in windbreakers jogged down toward them. 

She did her best to answer the questions she could, and when the guy named Brent asked “Do you wanna follow us to the hospital or do you have someplace to be?”

Kameron responded “Nowhere more important than this.”

As the men took off with the baby (now wrapped in heated blankets), Kameron and the tabby both followed. While he wouldn’t be allowed in the actual hospital, the time he spent in Kameron’s lap en route to the hospital was enough time for her to find his collar (buried under all that fur) on which was a phone number and the word KUBRICK. “Somebody’s got a film student for an owner, huh?” she muttered into his fur. 

Once at the hospital, the men took the baby away. Kameron had made sure ahead of time to have Kubrick securely in hand when they did this, as it predictably resulted in a lot of yowling and scratching. She felt bad for Kubrick in a way. After all, he didn’t understand why the bald human kitten was being taken away, or how long he would be gone. Kameron tried to explain in low, reassuring tones, but to no avail. 

After the baby was taken into the hospital, Kameron and Kubrick settled on an outdoor picnic table. She called the number on his tag, but no one answered -- she assumed, because it was now six twenty-four in the morning. She sent off a text as well with a picture attached, just in case Kubrick’s parent looked at texts before voicemails, like Kameron did. That call was followed by one to her boss, saying she’d be late and didn’t know how late and sure, take it out of my PTO. Kameron threw away the wrapper when she finished her now egg-and-cheese-only sandwich, kicking her feet in the air as she wondered what the hell she was gonna tell Vanessa. She resolved, after all, to tell her fiancee when there was something to tell. Like if, for example, Kubrick’s parent(s) never called her back. Or if whoever abandoned the baby never got in contact, and…

If you had asked Kameron last week, or yesterday even, ‘do you want kids’ she would have said “I don't know, maybe in ten years.” But after today… maybe it was all the excitement, but holding that kid to her chest, bouncing him… Her body felt like it was screaming at her, in a special kind of loneliness. Like when, at one am while she was ovulating her body would yell “I WANNA BABY!!” and she would try and logically explain to her body, only to end up watching videos of dogs protecting babies until she cried. This was different. This wasn’t just a hormonal, moody reminder of her fertile time clock, this was a deep-seated need. 

She called the Admissions desk again, as if HIPAA would allow them to say more than last time. It was once she’d been out there for a good two hours that Kameron realized they may never tell her anything. And she may never know what became of the child she sheltered under her jacket at the ass-crack of dawn. 

She called her boss again and asked if, since she was still waiting on Kubrick’s owner to call her back, she could bring the cat into the office with her. While he didn’t sound pleased, he would allow it, so long as he stayed in a carrier, and if any colleagues started complaining about pet allergies, she had to drop him at a shelter. Overburdening local animal shelters being the last thing Kameron wanted, she resolved to stop by the ASPCA before work and see if she could borrow some supplies. She was more than happy to find out they were willing to work with her given her history of donating time and money to the center. So, by nine-forty am, Kameron, coated in a light sheen of cat hair and general grime, strode into the corner office she’d fought so hard for. 

“I know you hate this, buddy, but you can go ahead and take a nap now, okay?” she cooed as she draped her coat over his carrier to make it nice and dark. 

Kameron got to her figures, punching numbers into Excel and sending data off to various people, all while the back of her mind chewed on what to do about the baby. She couldn’t abide by the idea of never knowing what became of him.I should’ve just said he was mine, she berated herself. Then again, the truth was sure to come out, right? As soon as someone so much as asked his birthday. She pulled dead skin off her lip with her teeth, and tasted copper. Kameron pressed her lips together, pressure for the bleeding. She racked her brain for contacts that would be able to help, and couldn’t come up with anything. 

Then, at eleven-twenty, Kameron’s phone buzzed twice.

_OMG!!_

_That bastard!_

Kameron smiled. The messages were in response to her much earlier text, and Kubrick’s stupid face. She wrote back, _your bastard, I hope_ and bent down to get a shot of him in the carrier under her desk. 

_Yeah jesus sorry he gets out sometimes_

_sorry for the late response i just woke up_

Kameron let out a chuckle and sent off another text. _God I wish that were me._ It wasn’t even noon and today was feeling like the longest day ever. She couldn’t wait to go home and let her fiancee go to town on her shoulders. Except. Usually when Vanessa gave her a shoulder massage Kameron told her partner what had her so worked up. Which… 

As she planned the trade-off with Kubrick’s owner, who called themself Adore, Kameron felt worry nag in her stomach. Never before had she felt like she couldn’t tell Vanessa something. Did this mean they shouldn’t get married after all? Was their relationship doomed because she couldn’t tell her soon-to-be wife that she wanted kids earlier than she thought?

Adore had green tipped hair, face piercings, and tattoos. They wore a DIY cropped tee that bore the name of some obscure 70s hair metal band. This was exactly the kind of person Kameron had envisioned owning a cat like Kubrick. 

Adore was waiting outside with the order all ready in to-go containers. “Hope you don’t mind I already went in a little while I was waiting-- _hiiii boy!”_

Kameron laughed, relieved to be laughing, and relieved to have Kubrick back where he belonged. Adore already had the carrier open and the grey tabby in their arms; meanwhile Kubrick was wholly unconcerned with Adore. “He’s like, ‘what’s the big deal? I was only gone for one night.’” 

“Well thankfully I had his nuts cut off two months ago, so he can’t have gotten up to too much mischief,” said Adore, sitting back down on the outdoor bench. 

Kameron pulled a fried chicken thigh out of one of the tubs in the bag on the table, making sure to grab her preferred sauces. “Actually, you know, he was really a very good boy while he was on the lam,” said Kameron. Although Adore regarded her skeptically, once Kameron launched into the story, Kubrick’s owner’s eyes grew wide, their whole face animating like a kid reacting to a hair-raising adventure story. 

“But, you know,” Kameron vented. “Once the hospital took him in, I’m not family so they aren’t gonna tell me anything. So I was wondering, do you know anyone in the neighborhood whose kid it could be?” She knew it was a long shot, but she had to try and find a way to finish the story. The idea of living the whole rest of her life, never knowing what became of the boy… Kameron couldn’t bear it. It felt like his little, barely-breathing face was still right up against her heart. 

Adore puckered their lips, buffalo sauce sliding down the curve of their lower lip. Kameron grabbed a napkin and dabbed their face, unable to suppress the urge. Only once she had locked eyes with Adore did she realize her mistake. “Uh. Uh sorry I, there was a--”

Adore rubbed the brown paper napkin back over their mouth. “Shit, I’m disgusting. Thanks.”

“I really didn’t mean--”

Adore raised a hand. “You’re good. Just.” They paused. “I know some people on the street, but the guys I know aren’t the family type; they’re more the smoke-weed-while-playing-D&D type.” 

Kameron nodded. She’d assumed as such, but had to take a shot anyway. 

Adore continued. “There’s the kids who play on the old ratty playground where there’s like used condoms in the trees and fences, pieces of crack pipes buried in the sandbox--”

“Jesus.” Kameron coughed. 

Adore shrugged. “I dunno, man. I grew up here-- it’s pretty exciting to dig up some cool shit, so long as it’s not _actual_ shit.”

Kameron pursed her lips and nodded. Some part of her screamed to go back to the hospital and somehow convince social services to let her adopt the boy just to save him from his neighborhood. But that wasn’t right. As long as his actual mother could provide, that’s where he should be. No matter what Kameron’s womb was telling her. 

“Anyway,” said Adore. “I’ve seen this one blonde lady with a baby, but I’m thinking-- cause her baby is a girl. Plus she’s old enough to kinda stand which I don’t think fits your profile?”

“Uh, the ambulance guys said he looked five-to-eight months?” 

Adore nodded.

“But come to think of it, I don’t know for a fact it’s a boy. I just assumed from the fact he was wearing blue and green.”

“I mean, you can assume a baby’s gender. It’s okay-- you’re not gonna offend an infant. They don’t even know what pronouns are.” Kubrick’s eyes followed intently as Adore motioned with a breaded chicken wing. “Plus, that lady I was talking about has other older girls, and I can’t see the others not asking where their sister is.”

“Right, right.” Kameron gazed into her lap. 

“I can ask around. Pretty sure the woman doesn’t know my name and I’d probably have to take a shower so I don’t reek when I show up at her house.” Adore chuckled. 

Adore did smell like the second story bathroom at her previous job. Kameron filled her mouth and shrugged, not wanting to say anything. 

Once twenty minutes had passed and Kameron had to head back to work, she hugged Adore. “Thank you so much... for asking around. It really…”

Adore waved their hand and pulled Kubrick’s carrier to rest on their hip. “It’s no problem-- I should be thanking _you_ for calling me and for rescuing that kid!”

“It’s not--” Kameron tried to say.

“It is,” Adore insisted, their tone serious. “You saved a life today, Take the fucking credit.”

Kameron pursed her lips and nodded her thanks, knowing too well if she opened her mouth, she’d apologise or embarrass herself somehow. 

That evening, Vanessa was able to tell something was up with her fiance. Figuring it was something that would pass in time, she let Kameron have the space to either figure it out or get over it. Even though she told Vanessa about the dramatic morning, she kept her worries and wants to herself. Before they shut off the lights, Vanessa turned to her and asked, “Is there something else you wanna talk about?”

Kameron let out a deep breath. “Do you remember last November, when you were going through a thing and you said you weren’t ready to talk about it yet?”

Vanessa nodded. Kameron gave her a little smile and said “Still working stuff out up here.” She tapped her temple. 

Vanessa rolled onto her side and poked at Kameron’s hair. “Well when _she_ figures it out…”

“You’ll be the first to know.” 

The next day around when Kameron was getting ready to go home for the day, she received a message from Adore. 

_Hey i had brunch/lunch with Rachel the mom i told you about and she doesn't know anyone who has a kid fits that description but she says shell help make flyers or whatever shes really interested she cried when i told her what happened she made me cookies to bring to you but i got high and ate them all so when you meet her just say they were good okay?_

_Also she asked if you did a police report and i didnt know so i said i didnt know but did you_

Kameron wrote back that she spoke to someone at the hospital and gave them all the information she had, and that the cops could probably get it from the hospital. She really didn’t feel like going down to the police station-- she could only picture someone missing their baby only to show up to the hospital and be put in handcuffs. 

As it turned out, there was no need for her to go to the police station, as a few days later, two officers showed up to her workplace. “Uh… Michaels,” her boss had said from the open doorway to her office. “There’s some men in uniform here to see you.”

After they’d assured her she was in no trouble (and she was able to get her blood pressure back to normal), Kameron agreed to speak to the men, asking that the office door and the blinds were kept open. And she told them what she told everyone else. They asked her whereabouts, what brought her to the neighborhood in the first place (after all, her favorite coffee shop wasn’t that close to either her home or her job). Questions which she did her best to field with grace and dignity. The men seemed skeptical of her. Nevertheless Kameron reminded herself to be cool as a cucumber, generous, gracious. _Give them reason to like you,_ her mother had said when she was trying to make new friends. She offered the officers a protein bar from her desk, a stale mint from a jar. They didn’t take anything, but Kameron sensed, or hopes she’d sensed, some ease in their countenance. 

As soon as they’d left, Kameron took a nicotine gum break and called Adore. Adore assumed something major had happened, on account they weren’t texting like usual. Kameron confided that her fingers were shaking too much to type. “Come over, share a blunt with me, we’ll talk it over.” Adore said it like it was obvious. 

Kameron would have said no: _I’m not supposed to smoke anything, smoking is bad._ She spat her gum into a trash can and left in her car, headed immediately to Adore’s home. Given that she did have to go back to work and also given that Adore’s home could only smell like weed, they shared a joint on the step outside their front door. It was while Kameron was offloading her anxiety on Adore that a well-groomed thirty-something blonde woman invited herself over. 

“Hello! I know we haven’t met yet, I’m Rachel.” The woman extended a hand. Her nails were polished pale pink and bangles clattered against one another on her wrist. 

“Uh.” Kameron gave the cigarette to Adore so she could wipe her hand on her work pants. She shook Rachel’s hand. “You’re the flyers lady? I’m Kameron.”

“Oh I know you are, dear,” said Rachel. “None of this one’s other friends seem to take pride in their appearance.”

“Hey!” Adore protested meekly. 

Kameron stood up so Rachel wouldn’t have to bend down so much. “It’s for my job, but believe me if I could wear sweatpants and oversized hoodies covered in stains, I _so_ would.”

Rachel tilted her head, her smile wide. “Oh? And what do you do?” 

“Ah, I work in finance,” siad Kameron. “Uptown.”

“Oooh an accountant! Where do you work if I may ask-- I ask Adore so many questions and she never knows-- what do you two talk about anyway that you don’t know anything about each other?!”

“Not true!” Adore stood up as well. “I know Kameron wants kids, she’s engaged and living with her fiance, who is the reason she can’t get a cat, so she hangs out with me and Kubrick. And!” they interrupted themself. “And her job is stressful especially because she’s trying to quit smoking before the wedding which is in…? It’s soon.”

“Two months.” Kameron felt jitters make their way through her bloodstream just thinking about it. 

“Oh also,” said Adore, holding up their pointer finger. _“She_ doesn’t forget my pronouns.”

“I stand corrected.” Rachel held up her hands. Then she turned to Kameron. “I’m just new to all this gender stuff. Back home, we only had men and women and if you weren’t married you didn’t need to know where babies came from!” The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Is it any wonder I wound up with a kid at seventeen.”

“Oh, how old are you?” Kameron asked without thinking. 

“Twenty-five,” said Rachel.

 _Oh,_ Kameron realized. Poor Rachel. This is a woman who has been through some shit, and it prematurely aged her. 

“I should actually be getting back soon,” Rachel said. “Paisley’s on the Hulu while Emma-June and Beth-Anne are taking their naps. If my Mom Sense is right, they’ll be waking up here in a little while. But I just wanted to hop over and see what you thought of the journalist idea.”

Kameron’s brow furrowed. “Journalist idea?”

Adore slapped Kameron’s arm. “Right! I completely forgot-- so I know this girl from high school who, unlike me, actually graduated and she’s a journalist now and I was thinking we could get her to write up your story and get some more eyes than just flyers.”

“Plus,” added Rachel. “It’s out there forever, so even if it takes ten or twenty years, that boy may grow up to learn all this happened and be able to find you _from the article!”_

Kameron nodded. “That sounds like it could work.” She looked at Adore. “Do you still have this person’s number?”

“Oh no, but I follow her on twitter and she seems interested. She says she can’t guarantee a date, but she’s into trying.”

“Cool,” said Kameron. The corners of her mouth angled upwards and she couldn’t stop the flame of hope that grew behind her sternum. Rachel returned to her house across the way and she and Adore finished off the last of the joint. Feeling considerably better than she’d felt in a while, Kameron was ready to take on the rest of the day. In truth, back at her job, she worked little on her actual assignments. She had a completely different task in mind to complete before the day finished out. 

When Vanessa got home, Kameron had changed into a house dress and apron, her hair in a messy bun as she padded barefoot across the kitchen tile. 

“Something smells good,” noted Vanessa. 

“Should taste good too!” said Kameron, wiping sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. “Store-bought rotisserie chicken, mostly store bought sides-- but I made the mac’n cheese salad, so at least most of it will taste good.”

Vanessa dropped her purse on a chair and walked over to her soon-to-be wife. “I’m sure it’ll taste great. Anyway I don’t think you can fuck up mac’n cheese.”

Kameron smiled and shook her head. “Well, we’ll see.” Vanessa stood on her tiptoes and puckered her lips, her eyes closed. Kameron met her in kind, smooching all domestic like they’d already been married a decade. Kameron felt like a phantom hand was squeezing her insides-- in a good way. 

While Vanessa changed out of her work clothes, Kameron finished up what she needed to prepare for dinner. Kameron poured wine with dinner and they toasted to the future. A few bites in, once they’d established the good quality of the meal, Vanessa asked, “So what gave you the idea to go all in tonight?”

“I actually have something I’m ready to share with you.” Kameron’s tone pitched up slightly. She was smiling, knowing in her heart it would be okay, but still nervous. 

“Oh?” Vanessa’s eyebrows lifted. “Is this, _the_ thing?”

Kameron took a deep breath and nodded. 

Vanessa put her silverware down and ripped open a roll. “Well, let’s hope I’m ready, huh.” She swirled her bread around her plate to soak up grease, gravy and oils. If Kameron hadn’t known better, she’d have taken Vanessa’s behavior as uncaring. But the way she busied her hands -- that, she knew, communicated her fiance’s nerves. 

Now, looking at Vanessa across the table, the big speech Kameron had planned fell away. What had she been thinking, long drawn-out speeches? She didn't even need all the figures she’d worked out at the office to show how they’d afford it. No, her partner always prefers big or bad news to be delivered in a straightforward manner. So, Kameron took another breath and said, “So we agree we want kids.”

Vanessa relaxed, the slightest bit. She took a bite of her soaked roll and nodded for Kameron to continue.

Kameron folded the edge of her napkin in her lap, refolded it. “I know we said, y’know. Down the line. But.”

Vanessa looked up at her more intensely, swallowing. She grabbed her glass by the stem. “Are you alright?”

Kameron hesitated, caught off-guard by the question. Her brain buffered for about ten seconds before she could answer. “Yes, I, as far as I know.”

Vanessa’s knuckles relaxed. She started swirling the wine in her glass. Her voice took on a meek, wavering tone. “So what is it then?”

Kameron straightened her spine and rolled her shoulders back, uncrossing her legs. “When I found that kid in the alley, it struck me…” The women gazed into each other's eyes. Through her air of confidence, of assertiveness, Kameron presented her heart on a platter. By the time she managed to get the words out, her vision blurred. “I _have_ to be a mom, Ness.” Her voice broke. “I have to. And I need this not in ten years, Ness, I need--”

Vanessa had risen from her seat at the beginning of Kameron’s confession. She walked around the table to join Kameron by her side, to seize her by the sides of her face and kiss her forehead, her eyelids. To wipe her tears away. Vanessa reached down and pulled the crumpled up cloth napkin from Kameron’s hand and tossed it on the table behind her, freeing her fiance's lap. She sat and embraced her lover with all the tenderness she could muster. Their embrace continued, communicating all that needed to be said, with dinner going cold and forgotten.

“Okay,” whispered Vanessa once they finally pulled apart. She swiped strands of hair from Kameron’s wet cheeks, then rested her hands on her wife-to-be’s shoulders. “Let’s have a baby.”

Kameron clenched her jaw, biting down on the inside of her lips in a hopeless attempt to keep the tears in. Vanessa rubbed Kameron’s arms. “Yeah? Let’s do it. Kids. just like the straight folks do.”

Runny snot shot out of Kameron’s nose when she laughed. Before she tried to fight it, Vanessa had grabbed her napkin from the table and wiped away the mess. “God,” Kameron croaked. “You’ll already be regretting having kids with me.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Gurl, if you think Imma be scared away by some boogers--” 

Kameron cracked up again. 

“We’ve got a much bigger shitshow comin’!” 

Kameron nodded, beaming ear to ear. 

Vanessa leaned back. “And you know I watched my nephews and cousins-- half the time it’s a literal shitshow.”

Kameron kept nodding, a sense of enormous weight gone from her shoulders. She knew at some point in the next twelve hours, she’d thank Vanessa in one of her favorite ways, but for now, all she wanted to do was take a nap. 

“Yeah,” Vanessa breathed. “Let’s have a baby… let’s just get married first.”

Kameron laughed. “I can wait that long.”

“Woah,” Kameron breathed when she checked the caller ID on her cell. The screen showed a picture of Adore with her side-shave, holding Kubrick as he seemed only to want to get away from her. 

“Adore?” asked Vanessa. “Is somebody dying?”

Kameron answered the call and brought her phone to her ear. She spoke softly, so as not to disturb anyone else in the waiting room. “Adore? Hello?”

“Omigod Kam you’ll shit a brick I swear--”

“I bet I will,” Kameron cut in, her voice still soft and low. “But I’m waiting to be called back for my appointment, so if you could make it quick, I’d appreciate--”

“Sure, sure. Dude. Kubrick-- I swear I’m not bullshitting you, this is no joke.”

“Mhm, I didn’t think you would, especially on a day you _know_ is so important for me.” Kameron infused her voice with a bit of a sneer. She couldn’t help it. 

“Right. Time crunch. Got it. Cut to the chase: Kubrick recognized this toddler at the park while I was talking to Rachel and he basically knocked the kid down circling him, nuzzling him-- it was so weird he’s never done that before then Rachel was saying how that kid’s mom allegedly lost custody of him for a hot second when he was a baby and I did some backwards math and I’m like more than 50% certain that’s your rescue kid.”

Kameron brought her hand to her lips and curled her arms around herself. After the article went live, she’d received some tips, a couple of people saying ‘here’s how a similar situation ended’, and she’d followed the status of the police case until they closed it, but that’s all the closure Kameron thought she was going to get. 

One of Vanessa’s hands curled around her elbow, the other wrapping around her waist. Adore was practically yelling through the speaker, and the waiting room was so quiet she didn’t have to strain to hear the whole conversation. 

“Anyway Rachel’s gonna be on the case to find out for sure but I had to tell you, Kam. Isn’t that exciting??!”

“Yeah.” Kameron could barely get the words out. “That is. It’s, it’s amazing. Thank you.” Adore said goodbye and Kameron sat back in the uncomfortable seat. “God.” She grabbed Vanessa’s hand and pressed her palm over her chest. “My-- my heart is goin’ a mile a minute.”

“I know.” Vanessa stroked her wife’s hair. “What’s happening up there, what’cha thinkin’?”

“I’m thinking…” Kameron shook her head, astonished. “We got married… April before last.” 

Vanessa nodded.

“That’s well over a year. A year and what, four? Five months? They grow so much in that time. He must look totally different now.” Her lip quivered. “I don’t even know his name.”

“And yet,” Vanessa offered. “The cat recognized the kid. I’m down to believe an animal before a detective any day.”

Kameron nodded. She forced herself to take a deep breath so her head would stop spinning. After a quiet moment, she said, “I think, I think it might be a sign.” She looked to her wife. “Like, now that I can, I can let go of that boy in the alley… I won’t be holding anything back anymore. And that’s why it hasn’t worked until now.” Kameron searched Vanessa’s dark eyes, trying to get her to understand the abrupt shift in gravity that was happening inside. 

“Now that I have closure,” she continued. “I’m ready. Really ready to give myself to a new baby.” She squeezed Vanessa’s hands. “It’s a sign, Ness. It’s gonna work this time. It will.”

A lean Persian man in a sleek bowtie and fashionable suspenders made his way down the foyer to the waiting room. Vanessa recognized him as Dr Cox, the man they knew well, who had supported and vouched for them from the get-go. She nudged her wife to get her attention. Dr Cox smiled and called them by name. The women stood up and prepared to follow him back toward his office. “This is gonna be the last time,” Kameron told him.

“I always hope every time is the last time we need to do this,” said Dr Cox as they rounded the corner.

“This time it is,” Kameron insisted gleefully.

“We’ve been given a sign,” added Vanessa.

“Can’t argue with that,” said Dr Cox. He swung his office door wide open for them. “We’d better get to it then!”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is in the same universe as another fic I wrote called Bread & Butter, but takes place before that fic. Also: did you spot the fairly obvious cameo? Let me know in comments.


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